Irresistible Temptations
by Pipspebble
Summary: Pippin takes a tumble; Merry agonizes
1. Pippin's Tumble

Irresistible Temptations  
By Pipspebble  
Rating - PG-13 maybe? You be the judge  
Setting - Post Ring War, Minas Tirith  
Written for - Happy Birthday, Baylor!  
Thanks to - Marigold and Nickey for the quickie beta!  
Note - This is all Baylor and Nickey's fault.   
Warning: Could be interpreted two ways, depending on the reader's slant on the characters  
Disclaimer - The reader should draw his or her own conclusions. The author pleads the 5th  
  
"Pippin?" Merry mumbled, his arm blindly reaching for the space behind him. Finding it vacant he sat up, groaning as the faint light from the open window pierced his eyes, even the pale dawn sending blinding pain racing through his swollen head. Perhaps he had had too much to drink last night after all.  
  
The last thing he remembered was stumbling along the corridor with his arm around his younger cousin, both giggling as they were brought to their knees time and time again by some burst of hobbit merriment or witty remark one or the other made. It took both of them working together to manage opening the door to their assigned chambers, and even more of an effort to heft and heave their drunken selves onto one of the great beds that were spaced much too far apart for them to seriously consider using more than one of them. Hobbits slept best when they were allowed to cuddle, and these particular hobbits had been apart for far too long during the last days of the War of the Ring to be separated by even that much space ever again, if they could help it.  
  
He remembered collapsing onto the bed with Pippin curled up beside him, snuggling his pointed little chin contentedly into Merry's chest, Merry's arm around Pippin's shoulders, the other flat out on the other side of the bed, palm up, and neither of them heard the empty bottle that fell to the carpeted floor as Merry relaxed into blissful oblivion.  
  
His dreams that night, whether through fault of food or drink, were tormenting in the extreme. He woke with the feeling that they bore some element of prophecy, and thus it was with some misgivings that he registered the fact that he was alone, and of Pippin there was no sign.  
  
He stumbled out of bed and gathered his clothes from the floor where he had dropped them the night before. Pippin's, he noted, were missing, so he gathered that his cousin was already out and about. He lifted his head as his nose detected the smell of freshly baked bread and immediately deduced the whereabouts of his missing companion.  
  
A short time later, having dressed and splashed water on his flushed face, brushed his teeth and combed his curls, Merry left the chambers and followed his nose to the site of the wondrous aromas.  
  
The baking rooms at Minas Tirith were huge, as was everything associated with it. The Big People ate big meals, and all of the food was cooked in big pans and even bigger ovens. Pippin had been fascinated with watching Gondor's royal cooks as they worked their magic in preparing food for their King and his court. Often Pip would wheedle them into giving him a taste, and just the day before yesterday he had been introduced to chocolate, something never before seen in the Shire.  
  
This night would mark the one-week anniversary of the King and Queen's wedding, and the royal cooks were sure to outdo themselves with their culinary wonders. Merry knew for a fact that they had been baking non-stop through the night, preparing for the feast. The smells emanating from the baking rooms told him that the sweetcakes were the order of business this day and he had a sneaking suspicion that his errant cousin might be in the vicinity of this temptation, doubtless too strong for him to resist, if Merry knew Pippin, and he did.  
  
"Pippin?" he called as he entered the baking rooms, miraculously empty, until he remembered the early hour and caught sight of the sole attendant snoozing in the corner, her hot pads across her lap, her nose twitching as if in unconscious minding of her creations in their ovens. Merry stole silently further into the room, surreptitiously peering around the Big People furniture, standing on tiptoe to see up over the edge of the tables where Big People bowls dominated the surface. "Pippin?" he whispered, sensing that his cousin was there, somewhere. But where?  
  
"Is that you, Merry?" a voice spoke weakly from above his head, from the counter where sat a pewter bowl larger than he and Pippin put together.  
  
"Pippin?" Merry climbed onto the stool beside the counter and hoisted himself up to the surface, stepping over a large wooden stirring paddle and padding over to the bowl from whence came his cousin's voice once again.  
  
"Merry, help me!" His words ended on a choking sound and Merry's heart leapt into his throat as he stood on tiptoe and peered over the side of the enormous bowl.  
  
Pippin grinned back up at him from a pool of chocolate, thick and dark and dripping with sweetness, his eyes brilliant green amidst the dark brown batter that covered his curls, dripping onto his face, down his sharp little nose and onto his mouth, that impossibly perfect, bow-shaped mouth, wreathed and smeared from the path taken by his tongue as it made the circuit of his lips, still dotted with the residue of the sweet journey.  
  
Jolted to the very core of his being, Merry dropped back down onto his heels so that he would be spared the stirring vision, for long enough to at least catch his breath and allow him to act as the responsible one of the pair. Chocolate-covered Pippin! How in Middle-earth was he supposed to deal with that? And in his condition!  
  
"Merry!" came the whispered plea again. "Merry, don't leave me here! I can't get out! The sides are too slippery, and so am I!"  
  
Sighing, Merry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to take control of the situation. Whatever that was. He was quite confused about exactly how things stood between them as it was. And how in the name of the Valar had Pippin managed to fall into a bowl of chocolate so deep that he could not pull himself out of it?  
  
Merry stuck his head over the rim of the bowl again and there Pippin was still, grinning like the cat that caught the rabbit. From the size of the bowl and the amount of batter it contained, this was surely the fixings for a cake of significant size, worthy of marking the one week anniversary of the wedding of their King and Queen. And now Pippin had managed to ruin it.  
  
He apparently suffered not one whit of guilt or embarrassment over his condition, indeed seemed quite pleased with himself. Except for the fact that he was trapped, he appeared quite content with his lot, covered from the top of his curly head to the last hair on his curly little toes, and from the way he was patting his tummy and the dreamy expression in his eyes quite sated with the chocolate into which he had managed to fall, apparently head first.  
  
"However did you manage it, cousin?" Merry asked, although he was not altogether sure he wanted to know the dirty details, and whether he was envious or sympathetic.  
  
Pippin merely assumed his most innocent expression and turned wide green eyes up at him. "All I wanted was a taste, Merry, I didn't mean to fall in! I was just going to get a finger full and be off before Cook woke up and found me. Please help me out of here, Merry, she will skin me alive if she catches me here!"  
  
There was no way he was going to get his cousin out of that bowl and out the door without leaving evidence of the culprit in chocolate covered footprints, and not just any footprints, but what were clearly hobbit footprints at that. Merry scouted the area for a cloth of some kind to catch the messy prints and thankfully found several close by that were easy enough for him to drag to the site of Pippin's mishap and position beneath the lip of the bowl.  
  
Leaning over as far as he could without losing his own footing, Merry extended his hand to his cousin. "Come on!" he urged and Pippin scrambled to the side of the bowl and reached with a slippery hand. Locking his fingers tightly around that hand, Merry pulled and Pippin slowly slid over the edge of the bowl, landing on the cloth with a soft splat and a giggle of glee.  
  
"Thanks, Merry!" he said, reaching to hug him but Merry quickly backed away, holding another cloth before him and pushing it into Pippin's dripping hands. There was no amount of mithril in the Mines of Moria that could persuade him to allow a chocolate covered Pippin to embrace him. Not here. Not now. There were some limitations even to Merry's endurance.  
  
He was, after all, only a hobbit, and a lonely one at that, missing the comfort of a sweet hobbit lass at night, pressed all too often into nocturnal embrace with his favorite cousin, his best friend, the one he loved most in the whole world, yet on an entirely different level from the way he felt about Estella back home in the Shire.  
  
Pippin was different. Pippin was, well, his Pippin, and had been from the moment Merry held his newborn cousin in his arms. From the very first meeting of their eyes, it was understood that they belonged to each other. Merry had looked into those eyes that would hold him captive the remainder of his life and from that moment on he was clay in Pippin's hands.  
  
Here he was now, holding himself at arm's length so as not to make an even bigger mess than they were already going to have to clean up, and Pippin was looking at him with those eyes again, those wicked green eyes dancing with mischief, and Merry had not the heart to scold him.  
  
"Here," he said instead, bending to wrap Pippin's feet one by one in the cloth and wipe them as clean as a lick and a spit could accomplish, for he knew that they should beat a hasty retreat before Cook awoke and caught them. That accomplished, he straightened and looked back up at his cousin, who was grinning at him beneath a chocolate mustache. Merry shook his head. "What am I going to do with you, Pippin?"  
  
The grin widened. "Well, I suppose if I had made it to the oven and been fully baked you could have eaten me for pudding. As it is, you'll just have to settle for a taste." And before Merry could say another word Pippin had stuck a chocolate covered finger into his cousin's mouth.  
  
Merry thought that he had died and gone to Over-heaven. Never in his life had he tasted anything so incredibly delicious, so rich and creamy and so very, very sweet. Pippin's face was inches from Merry's and so full of delight at his surprise that he fairly glowed.  
  
The shock of his emotions hit Merry like a lance through the heart. This was Pippin! His Pippin! He could not let things get out of control here or their lives would never be the same. He could not bear to lose him, and the surprising nature of some of the thoughts that he was having was frightening enough for Merry to push them forcefully away. Rejection was something that he knew he could not bear, so better to maintain their relationship as it was, as it had always been, loving and supportive and always there for each other, no matter what.  
  
But Chocolate Covered Pippin was not playing fair. Merry seized the chocolate wrist and extracted the finger from his mouth, smacking his lips as he savored the lingering flavors, forcing himself to put on his merry Merry face and make light of the incident.  
  
"Back, you!" he ordered, keeping his tone playful, but wearing the mock scowl he knew Pippin recognized from years of following his elder cousin's commands. "Back to our chambers, quick, before she wakes up!"  
  
Turning, they scampered down and to the floor, Merry looking over his shoulder to ascertain that they had left no footprints, Pippin keeping a lookout from the front.  
  
As they disappeared through the door, the old Cook stirred in her chair, opening her eyes and smiling a toothless smile. She stood and walked over to the mess on the counter, calmly wiped the surface clean and took the huge pewter bowl to the outside door, emptying its contents and rinsing it clean with a pitcher of water.  
  
Gathering her ingredients, she set about making another batch of chocolate cake batter, but this time she would keep a sharp eye out for intruders.  
  
To be continued for Marigold's birthday on June 27th!  
  



	2. Merry's Fall

Title - Irresistible Temptations - Part 2: Merry's Fall  
By - Pipspebble  
For - Marigold, in honor of her birthday!  
Rating - Okay, okay, PG-13, I guess; judge it as you will; mild slash overtones  
Setting - Post Ring War, Minas Tirith  
Warning - Really don't think it needs a warning, but see above; an open mind helps.  
Thanks - to Marigold and Nickey for beta work!  
SUPER big thanks to The Marigoddess ™ for helping me through this incredibly hard story to write; I don't do very well at walking the fine line; she was kind enough to help me through the trek from Point A to Point Z. I am so in your debt there is no way it can be repaid. Huge hugs!  
  
"This way, Pippin!" Merry pulled his cousin by the sleeve and guided them out of the Baking Rooms of the Minas Tirith kitchens, through a side door opening onto a small courtyard near the herb garden. At the edge of the garden was a rain barrel, filled to the brim with fresh rainwater from last evening's fall. It might be enough to wash clean the chocolate covered Pippin beside him. But only just.  
  
They stopped before the barrel and Merry reached for the bucket beside it. "Whatever are you doing, Merry?" Pippin yelped, holding his arms over his head. "You can't douse me with that! I'll be soaking wet!"  
  
Merry filled the bucket and held it expectantly as the tween cowered at his side. "Better to be caught soaking wet and clean, than caught covered with the evidence of a crime," he declared and, at his cousin's frown, sent back one of his own. "Look, Pippin, there is no way for us to possibly get back to our rooms without being seen. It's either rinse you off here and now, before anyone comes, or risk the wrath of the Cook when it is discovered 'twas you that spoiled her cake for the King and Queen's celebration."  
  
Pippin stared, wide-eyed, his bow of a mouth popping open to protest, only to close again as he shook his head, his face a picture of dread. "She'll skin me alive!" he moaned, clearly terrified, then closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. "Do it, Merry! Get me cleaned off before somebody comes and finds me like this!"  
  
He bowed his head and Merry closed his own eyes for a moment, praying to the Valar for the strength to complete the task that lay before him. He wondered at the irony of the situation, for how many times in Pippin's young life had he sought Merry's help in cleaning up a mess? Now the mess was Pippin himself and Merry felt not at all confident of his ability to rise to the challenge. Or, rather, feared that he would do just that, and embarrass them both. How, oh, how, had he come to find himself in such a state?  
  
To have begun his day hung over from the night before, then discovering Pippin literally swimming in chocolate, and having to help him slither out of his sweet prison, now to find himself charged with the task of cleaning the deliciously dangerous temptation before him? What had he ever done to deserve such torture?  
  
He sighed in resignation and upended the bucket over his cousin. Reaching with his free hand for those soft, springy curls, he ran his fingers through them in an effort to wash away the chocolate goo. As he did so, Pippin opened his eyes and looked wetly up at his cousin, and Merry's heart lurched at the beauty of the love that shone in his sweet face.  
  
Valar help him, he loved the young hobbit more than anything, more than life, more than Estella, with whom he had already secretly committed to matrimony. The thought hit him like a kick in his stomach and Merry turned away, filling the bucket again to hide his own raging emotions.  
  
Before Pippin could recover from the first bucket, his cousin dumped the second one over his head.  
  
"Now scrub," Merry commanded.  
  
"With what?" Pippin spluttered, shaking his head like a wet puppy and sending water flying.  
  
"Your hands, goose! While I pour, you run your hands over your clothes and let us see just how much of this chocolate we can rinse out of them. Then we can sit in the morning sun on the bench at the garden wall until you are dry enough to get back to our rooms without making an even bigger mess than we already have."  
  
Pippin looked up at him, all big green eyes and drooping curls. Little rivulets of chocolate dripped from his hair down onto his neck and ran like dark fingers into the shirt plastered to his chest. The body so thin and horribly wounded not so long ago now testified to his cousin's rapid recovery. In the last few weeks Pippin had regained most of the weight lost during the Quest and now looked more like the wiry tweenager who had begun the Journey all those months ago.  
  
But Merry knew there were scars on the inside, from wounds that might never completely heal. So much had happened to the lad so quickly, and to himself, for that matter. They were not the same hobbits at war's end that they had been before. He feared that their separation, and the trauma of their reunion, followed by Pippin's long recovery from his own battlefield injuries, lay at the core of this new intensity in his cousin's focus on him. And he was not at all sure that it was not the fuel for his own disturbing thoughts and desires of late. Thoughts and desires as confusing as they were stirring.  
  
He blinked, forcing himself to think of goblins, orcs, trolls, anything to banish the vivid images from the forefront of his mind. This was neither the time nor the place for him to be allowing himself to think such things, no matter how much he loved Pippin.  
  
"Scrub!" he ordered again.  
  
"Why don't you?" Pippin's grin was just this side of malicious.  
  
Merry ignored it, though not without some difficulty. He had always had trouble saying "no" to the young rascal. But this time he must; at least for now. "Scrub, Pippin!" he said again. "We have not the time for banter or play. Unless you would prefer to meet Cook still wearing her batter?"  
  
Pippin's smile vanished as he shook his head again, and he squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for another drenching, which Merry promptly delivered.  
  
"I do believe Minas Tirith agrees with you, Pip," Merry observed, watching in fascination as water pasted the clothes against his cousin's well formed, if narrow, chest. Beneath the embroidered neckline of the shirt, Merry could see the pulse that beat at Pippin's neck, knew that his own beat a matching rhythm. An overwhelming desire filled him to put his ear to Pippin's chest so that he could hear the steady thumping that affirmed his survival of their ordeal. He longed to embrace him and press his own thumping heart against the one he held so dear, to hold in his arms the soul mate he had always known his Pippin to be. He closed his eyes against the sweet agony of loving him.  
  
"Really, Merry, am I that bad?" Merry opened his eyes again, fearful of being undone by not only chocolate Pippin but wet Pippin, and doubting his ability to maintain his composure. Yet at sight of the earnest expression in the sea green eyes he could not prevent the grin from crossing his face, for well he knew the futility of resisting the charms of a Took, especially this particular Took. From the day he was born the little scamp had held his elder cousin completely within his power, his hold growing ever stronger as the years passed.  
  
"No, my Pippin," he assured the young hobbit before him. "You are not bad at all. In fact, you clean up rather nicely."  
  
Pippin's smile blazed for a moment, then his eyes clouded ever so slightly and he grew suddenly serious. "I'm glad you approve. Wouldn't want my Merry to be afraid to touch me for fear of getting himself all dirty."  
  
Something in Pippin's tone caught the older hobbit's attention and he frowned at his cousin, set the empty bucket down and put his hands on his hips. "Now what in thunder is that supposed to mean, Peregrin?"  
  
Pippin shook his head, a shadow of hurt in his eyes. "You wouldn't let me hug you, Merry," he said accusatorily. "You pushed me away from you. You've never done that to me before, Merry. Never."  
  
"Because I didn't want to get all dirty, that's why!" he shot back. "Honestly, Pippin, you can be so sensitive --"  
  
"Only when it comes to you," Pippin muttered, turning his back on him and walking off toward the rows of herbs.  
  
Merry remained still and silent, wondering how he could possibly explain his discomfort to Pippin without inflicting further pain on the person he loved above all others. He watched the small, soaking figure shuffle off into the garden and Merry's stomach clenched with worry, for the damage he might do, for the damage he might have already done.  
  
He was heir to the Master of Buckland, Pippin to the Thain. As only sons, they must both marry a hobbit lass of good standing, and produce heirs of their own. Nothing could change that. And Merry had promised, though in secret, to marry Estella when they returned from the Quest.  
  
None of that diminished what he felt in his heart for Pippin. Nobody could take Pippin's place. They had belonged to each other, and would belong to each other, for all the days of their lives. Forever would they be together. Together, but not like that. No matter how much they both might want it. At least not yet, if ever.  
  
He saw Pippin shiver as a brisk morning breeze kicked up and, instantly contrite, Merry moved close, throwing an arm across his cousin's shoulders and pulling him into his side.  
  
"And now I am pulling you to me, young Took," he said, looking down at him, equally gratified and concerned to see the trembling smile on lips already turning blue with chill. He squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "Come, let us bide a wee in the sun and see if we can manage to get ourselves dry."  
  
"'Bide a wee'?" Pippin's brows rose. "Careful, Merry, you're slipping into Tookish again. You know you are in trouble when you start talking like a Took. No telling what you will end up doing." His brow smoothed and he smiled slyly up at his cousin, an evil glint in his eye. "Next thing you know, you will be warming me up."  
  
Which was precisely the thing Merry most wanted, yet most feared. Timing was everything, and the time, he feared, was not right to be taking the step Pippin was working so hard to make him take. It might be right some day, but not this day. It might not even be this year, or next. Somehow he had to instill patience in the anxious tween beside him, without hurting his tender feelings.  
  
He ignored the taunt and led Pippin to the garden bench, sitting down so that the sun shone directly upon them. Turning his cousin to face him full on, he put his hands on his shoulders, gripping firmly. "Pippin, we have to talk. We have danced around this issue for long enough."  
  
"What issue would that be, Merry?" Pippin's mouth tightened, his eyes flashing a challenge.  
  
Merry sighed. "What you are implying with all this teasing and innuendo. I know we have behaved thus for years, but you are nearly grown, Pippin, and somehow it is different now, maybe because we are both old enough to act on our desires. I cannot deny that I feel the same for you, dearest, but you must know that. And you must know that we can't, just as well as I do, and yet lately you make resisting almost impossible. Why is it suddenly so important that we decide this now, Pippin? "  
  
Pippin's face fell and Merry nearly wilted then and there. He was making a horrible mess of a very touchy situation, he inwardly scolded. How could he live with himself if he inflicted heartache on the one he loved above all others?  
  
"I, I don't know, Merry," Pippin finally stammered, lowering his head, but not before Merry detected the sheen of tears in his eyes. "Maybe it is because I lost you for a time, and then it was the other way around. I almost left you, forever. All I know is it was unbearable, the thought of living my life without you, without the other half of my soul. And I know that it would be just as hard for you to lose me. 'Tis more than my heart could stand."  
  
"More than my heart could stand, as well," Merry returned, squeezing the youngster's shoulders affectionately. "I love you, Pippin, as I have loved you and will love you all of your life, and mine. I am here for you, and I will be here for you always, no matter where our duty takes us, no matter the obligations we must meet to fulfill our responsibilities as heirs of the Master and of the Thain."  
  
Pippin looked up at him, realization dawning in his eyes. Without pause, Merry continued. "Responsibilities that include marrying a lass of good name, and producing a son to carry on the family line. These are things we must do, Pippin, no matter our feelings for each other. We must do our duty to our families."  
  
"And what about our duty to ourselves?" Pippin asked, his voice barely a whisper.  
  
Merry smiled sadly, his heart wrung. "We will always be together, Pippin. Do you not know that? I will warm you when you are cold, and comfort you when you are sad, and be happy when you are happy, and we can be all things to each other save the one. At least for now."  
  
Pippin's eyes swam with tears and, seeing this, Merry placed his free hand on the tween's cheek, his thumb gently caressing, striving to convey his emotions through his eyes, his touch, his gentle words.  
  
"But that does not diminish the love we share, my Pippin," he whispered, meaning it with all his heart. "And it never will."  
  
Two big tears breached the lovely green eyes and Merry leaned forward and kissed each one as it fell on petal soft cheeks. Pippin lifted his head and for a moment, one fleeting moment, their lips touched, softly and sweetly and endlessly precious to them both.  
  
When it was over, Pippin settled against him, laying his head against Merry's chest, where he could feel his heart thrumming with life. Merry tightened his arms around his young cousin, smiling as Pippin's voice came softly from below his chin.  
  
"I can wait, my Merry. For you, I can wait. So long as you promise not to leave me again. So long as I can come to you and we can be as close as we have always been, I can wait for the day when we might be even closer. You are worth the wait."  
  
Merry pressed his lips to the soft wet curls. "As are you. And I promise, my Pippin, when the time is right, I shall be right here. As always."  
  
They sat together in the rising sun, holding each other close, their hearts warming them from the inside out, envisioning a future beyond them now, but not so far out of reach that it could not come true.  
  



End file.
